We all create stories to protect ourselves.

Maybe you saw her first? Caught a glimpse between the lines, between the letters, like a ghost in the mirror, a ghost in the wings?

This great blue world of ours is but a house of leaves, moments before the wind.

Love of love written by the broken hearted, love of life written by the dead.

Come morning I found the day as I have found every other day--without relief or explanation.

Absolutely nothing visible to the eye provides a reason for or even evidence of those terrifying shifts which can in a matter of moments reconstitute a simple path into an extremely complicated one.

No one ever really gets used to nightmares.